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July 24, 2012

Remembering Sally Ride

Photo courtesy of Sally Ride Science

Sally Ride's death has hit me hard.

And I know how weird it is for me to be writing a post like this on Cranky Fitness; this is not that kind of blog. So, kind readers, please forgive today's rather self-indulgent wallow in grief and know that normal whining about health and fitness aggravations will return soon.

The thing with Sally Ride and why the loss feels so personal...

She was one of the few role models I've ever welcomed and internalized into my own bizarre psychological landscape--a spooky but ultimately hopeful place in which conventional "heroes" and "celebrities" don't tend to venture very often. But kind, brainy, brave, self-effacing, determined gals who accomplish amazing things without ever getting big-headed or braggy...they tend to loom large.

Plus, I knew Sally Ride and she changed my life.

Seriously Crabby, Are You Maybe... Exaggerating a Little?

OK, so I didn't really "know her." I just hung out with her for a few weeks. And, um, I was only 11 or 12 at the time. And it's not like we were close friends... she was my camp counselor at a tennis camp in Lake Tahoe. I had a predictably wild crush on her (along with our cabin's other counselor, Sally's best bud Molly, who was also awesome.) This was a good decade before Sally Ride roared off in the Challenger.

And, well, memory is not my strong suit and it's also possible the "Sally Rider" I'd remembered from the early 1970's wasn't even the astronaut Sally Ride at all, in which case this is the most embarrassing blog post in all of history but what the hell. Even if Sally Rider and Sally Ride were two different people, their combined presence still changed my life.

(UPDATE: I've received kind confirmation that the "Molly and
Sally" I recall from summer camp were indeed Molly Tyson and Sally Ride).

The Sally and Molly I remember were so... fun. And smart. And gentle. And inclusive. And worldly... without being snotty or blase about it. They shared a lot of "grown up" observations in a casual way, as though we mature enough to appreciate it.

Molly broke her arm tripping over a tennis ball and had to get a cast. Sally washed Molly's hair in the sink and goofed for the camera (not mine, sadly), pretending she was in a Prell commercial. Both of them helped us write tennis-camp specific parodies of Simon and Garfunkle songs for the "talent" show. One of them had a guitar and they sang for us and I still think of them whenever I hear "The Sound of Silence" "Leaving on a Jet Plane" or "We'll Sing in the Sunshine."

Molly and Sally seemed to honor their friendship as something important and integral, not something to pass the time until the right guy came along to whisk them off. It was clear they were bright and wise and GOING SOMEWHERE. And they encouraged all us girls to feel the same way.

I was the most awkward adolescent imaginable. I didn't have many friends. I wore the wrong clothes, had the wrong haircut, didn't know how to be a proper "girl" even had I wanted to, which I wasn't all that sure I did. (This was not yet a time when "alternative lifestyles" were condoned). Yet Sally and Molly made me feel... totally ok about who I was, at least for the duration of camp. I had the vague sense (and they may have even said something explicit along these lines) that if I could hang in there through junior high and high school, that life would get a lot less miserable for a shy gangly nerdy tomboy who feared she'd never fit in anywhere.

So Sally Ride was not just brainy, brave, barrier-breaking Space Traveler and Physics Professor who inspired millions with her accomplishments; she was a role model for at least one anxious, confused, self-doubting dweeb who is forever grateful.

Happenstance?

So, no lie, three days ago I suddenly decided I wanted to find Sally Ride again, hoping to secure some sort of email address for her. I knew the chances of a reply were minimal, but I wanted to do two things: clear up the mystery of whether she was the camp counselor I recalled; and, also, to let her know how much her inspiration had meant to me, whether she was the same Sally or not.

Once I discovered she'd left UCSD (also my alma mater, though years before she taught there) I lost my nerve and thought better of wildly querying her nonprofit, Sally Ride Science and bothering her. I thought, well, some other time. Perhaps, I fantasized, I might run into her sometime in San Diego, at a fundraiser or something and see if the whole Tahoe tennis camp thing rang any bells. (And yes, I have an active fantasy life.)

Clearly, it's too late now. And I'm actually glad I didn't send any bothersome missives adding to email box clutter during her final days. Though it does make me think about others, not celebrities, who have been hugely inspirational in my life but may not have any idea of the impact they've had. Perhaps time to hunt down a few more emails?

Cancer Sucks

I can only imagine what Tam O'Shaughnessy, Sally's partner of 27 years, is going through right now, and to her I send most heartfelt condolences.

There is always room for a remembrance like this on every blog! I've written a few on mine, and even with a tear at the end, I was glad I did it. Thank you for sharing this wonderful story, Crabby! As a Florida boy, the space program has been integrated into my life. We all know exactly where we were when any of those moments, both wonderful and tragic happened. Long may Sally...Ride!

Crabby, whether it was the same Sally or not, she was profoundly important in your life. Thank you for reminding us of the way we can make a difference for young people, and honoring the memory of an amazing woman at the same time.

My God I loved Sally Ride. I wanted to be an astronaut since I was in 3rd grade and Neil Armstrong (Gemini 8 and Apollo 11) came to my school. Then I discovered I was not smart enough to be an astronaut. Oh well. I could still star gaze from my back porch and dream.

Did you know she taught at UCSD? Your paths may have crossed once again!

She came to UCSD after I graduated, but since we now live in San Diego for half the year, I always hoped somehow I'd meet her. I've also discovered that Molly, who could either confirm or shatter completely the notion that Sally Ride was my camp counselor, may be a friend of a friend of a friend on Linked In. Not sure I want to be stalkery enough to pursue that angle, however. However, if it is the same Molly, I owe her an equal debt of gratitude even if she never flew into space.

And actually, I think you'd make an AWESOME astronaut. You pilot the rocket, I'll bring the beer! What could go wrong with that plan?

What a fantastic post...what precious memories. And yes, I have been heartbroken, and will be again.

I met Sally Ride when I was fresh out of college (1984) and in my first "real" job as a public relations assistant in NYC. After that job, I never wanted to be in PR again, but am grateful for what I learned and for the exciting people I met. But this isn't about me, it's about Sally Ride, the first American woman and youngest person ever in space...RIP and thank you.

Oh!! I didn't mean to imply that your post had been about you...seriously...really and truly!! To be honest, I had cut and pasted that part of my comment from my FB page!! Your post was perfect and a wonderful tribute!!

Karen, no, YOU didn't at all! I just realized I felt a bit self conscious about making the post so much about me and my geekitude when there were so many more aweome things about Sally that I should have been writing about instead!

Crabby I cry at everything. Personal heros. Animal causes. Senseless deaths. THe Bullying of the grandmother in NY. You name it I cry. I'm so damn sensitive. I don't think it's bad at all, being compassionate is a wonderful trait and I don't care if people think I'm too sensitive.

Thank you Jody! You are much better at writing about the personal arena than I am, which is why I rarely go there. But felt like I had to process a bit about that one. The last time I felt moved to write a similar post was a couple years ago when our cat passed on! I don't think it's going to become a trend here at Cranky Fitness.

Sally Ride's death has hit me a little bit too. Remembering her blasting off in to space, well, that was a different time, wasn't it? When we still explored space, there was possibility, and there I was a ten year old girl watching the first American female astronaut.

I was walking through Clairemont this morning and passed by the local mortuary. Its flag is at half-staff, and seeing it instantly made my throat clench. Oh, they did that for Sally! And then of course I realized maybe it was lowered as a result of the killings in Aurora. I don't know for sure (might try to google out an answer) but if it's for her it seems the right thing to do. What an inspiration.

I find it interesting how a lot of the discussion online revolves around "hey, we didn't know she was gay!" Because that's EXACTLY the point. You didn't know. And that means there are quite possibly a lot of other people out there you know and love who are gay and you just don't know it. I can only hope that enlightens some people.

Well in my mind the flags can be lowered in Sally Ride's honor as well as the Aurora victims.

And yeah, I think as more reasonable people discover there are gay people EVERYWHERE intolerance will be harder and harder to justify. Extreme haters will probably always be around, but for the average person who just hasn't realized how "normal" it can be, folks like Sally Ride are a great example.

A beautiful, tender post, Crabby, It sure sounds like the same woman and even if not, it doesn't matter. Whomever she was, she was a gem. Think of how many others she inspired, as well. You might want to consider sending this post link to her partner.. sometime down the road. Just a thought. Thanks for a lovely post.

Beautiful tribute, Crabby. How fortunate you found such a powerful role model early in life - it can make such a difference. I felt that way about my Uncle Jim - a guy who could light up any room he entered and treated everyone as if they were the most important person in the world. He had a spontaneous sense of humor that seemed to make him everyone's best friend. But most of all, he had the biggest heart - love for everyone and anyone. He died when he was 42 and the world has always seemed a little less bright since.

I suppose I should update the comments as well as the post... Yep, it was Sally Ride who was the camp counselor I remembered, and she and Molly were two of the coolest women I ever met. How lucky was I??!!

What a touching, lovely rememberance and am very glad you posted it. You DID actually know her and have even more sense of loss because of it. And, I do firmly believe we can profoundly, sincerely grieve the loss of anyone - whether we ever met or not. We loved those we lost. The same goes for loving them. We can and do whether we met, had a relationship with them or not. And EVEN if we never knew their name - but their friendly, kindly look made all the difference on a difficult day. I doubt there is any better testament to a human being (or any being)and their legacy than to have created love sufficient cause us to mourn that absence. So, thanks for giving us all who read your blog a place to love and mourn the loss.

Gosh I loved this post. I didn't even know about her until I heard she died, but then I did spend a lot of time reading up on her. I loved that she was private, but I bet she was a great person to the people she was close to. I bet she was your camp counselor too...all about the energetic thing (thinking of her, and news appears).

I love reading about people like her and people that were touched by people like her because it is like as the reader you vicariously benefit. It is as if you know the person's compassion and greatness through the admiration of others.

Thanks again for a beautiful post, I am glad you wrote it.

(PS. I had a terrible camp counselor around the same age. It is amazing how the right experience can strengthen you and the wrong experience just further validates discomfort in your own skin).

Thanks QD! And it's funny... now that I got the chance to write the post (and found out it WAS Sally Ride who was the wonderful camp counselor I remember) I feel a little less raw about it, though not any less sad. Sharing this stuff with such understanding blog readers really does help, even if it feels a bit weird to be blathering on publicly about someone I barely knew.. it's just she and Molly were such huge figures in my messed-up adolescence.

And I'm so sorry you had an awful camp counselor experience, that's just WRONG! Grrr...

I remember how thrilled I was when she became the first woman astronaut in the US. I never wanted to be one myself (I wanted to fly jets, something no ophthalmologist would have endorsed) but to know it was happening was so wonderful.

Weird things have happened to this comment twice now; I'll post before I have to rescue it again.

Oooh, too bad about the eyesight, love to think of you as a jet pilot! And damn, so sorry about the comments... I keep checking the setting and it is supposed to allow everyone to comment!

I heard on some forum that there may be a link between disabling the awful captcha word verification thing and having comments disappear, and if I keep getting reports about lost comments I may have to bring it back. But I HATE putting people through that.

Well, the whole post never disappeared; the words got creatively rearranged every time I came to the end of a line, and words were suddenly not there. In the process, most of what I meant to say disappeared from my short-term memory as well. So probably not the captcha thing.

When I was a kid I was a bit obsessed with space travel, and Sally Ride was such an inspiration! While I knew I would never be an astronaut (science wasn't exactly my strong suit), seeing her go up in the shuttle made me SO happy and gave me such hope.When I was at UCSD I thought about how I could meet her. I was in the graduate theater department, and a bit intimidated. I wish I'd had the guts to try and meet her, or at least drop her an email, and let her know how much she inspired me.Thank you for the beautiful tribute to an amazing woman!

Wow... great heartfelt post.I think you were super lucky to meet her.It's amazing how certain people stick with us through the years, and teach us by example.I was just reminiscing on the people in my life that have inspired me...teachers, coaches, and lots of other people.BTW- she was right.... it does "Get better!" Great words of wisdom for a young camp counselor!!

I am totally with you on questioning the bizarre obsession we have as a culture with people who "play" other people on TV or in the movies. Not that some of them aren't nice people, but, holy cow, do we really not understand the difference between a "character" and a "person?"

Wonderful post, Crabby. And, in case you aren't aware, YOU were one of the inspirations in my life - without your support, I would never have been brave enough to start a blog. (But please, never force me to write this kind of blog post about you. Seriously. You must live forever.)

Wow, what an amazing post! It really makes you think about what a huge impact we can have on other people, even in what we might consider a passing situation. I mean, who would think that a week at tennis camp could change a kid's life?

My first year at sleep-away camp, I cried and cried. I was painfully, deathly shy. I must have had the most wonderful counselor in the world. She let me lay in her bed one night and she talked to me about how I should try to have fun at camp, so I could tell my parents about all my experiences when I got home. If all I did was think about how much I missed my family, I would never have fun.